


Don't Trust a Demon to Follow the Rules of the Road

by boredom



Series: Crowley and Queen (A Friendship to end all Friendships!) [9]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-09
Updated: 2020-07-09
Packaged: 2021-03-04 17:55:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25170478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/boredom/pseuds/boredom
Summary: After John gets into a car accident, none of his friends can come pick him up. So he has to call the last person he ever wanted to get into a car with...Crowley.
Series: Crowley and Queen (A Friendship to end all Friendships!) [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1571422
Comments: 21
Kudos: 70





	Don't Trust a Demon to Follow the Rules of the Road

**Author's Note:**

> Trigger warnings: Car crash, drunk driving, running a red light

John truly felt as though he were the unluckiest person in the world. Of course, that wasn’t really true. There were plenty of people who were worse off than him, but right now, those people didn’t matter. 

“Are you sure I can’t drive it?” he asked the mechanic. 

“Sir,” the mechanic looked at him like he was crazy, “you’re lucky you aren’t in the hospital right now. A crash like that should have at least broken some bones.” 

“It wasn’t a crash!” John argued as if that made a difference. In truth, he was sitting at a red light. The light turned green, he started through the intersection only to be t-boned by a drunk driver running a red light. Miraculously, he only came out with a few scratches. His car on the other hand…

“Whatever you call it, you aren’t driving this thing ever again.” 

He groaned and collapsed down on the chair, this day was going from bad to worse. 

“I’ll call you a cab so you can get home and rest,” the mechanic said. 

“Don’t bother, I don’t have any money on me.” He had left his wallet at home and was actually going back to get it when this whole thing happened. 

“It’s still early enough. The tube’s still running.” 

“No money. No oyster card.” Everything was in his goddamn wallet which was sitting comfortably at home on his coffee table. 

“Ah.” The mechanic looked around, trying to figure something else to say. Finally, he spoke. “Got any friends who could help you out?” 

John sighed and nodded. “Yeah. Can I use your phone?” 

“Of course. Right this way.” 

John figured the best one to call in this situation was Brian. He was one of the more level-headed out of the group and as far as he knew, didn’t have anything going on right now. 

“Hello?” 

“Hey, Brian, it’s John.” Thank god he picked up. John did not want to walk home after what had just happened. 

“Hey, John, what’s up?” 

“I got into a car accident.” 

“Oh my god! Are you okay?” 

“Yeah, I’m fine. I just need a ride home. I left my wallet there and don’t have any money for a taxi or the tube.” 

Brian hissed. “Um, I would love to pick you up,” There was hesitation in his voice. 

“Please,” John said, massaging his brow, “please do not come up with an excuse.” 

“It’s my anniversary.” 

“So? You have an anniversary every year.” God, Brian really was leaving him stranded for his wife. 

“Yeah, but Crowley managed to swing us a table at the Ritz. The Ritz! I can’t let this opportunity pass. You know she’s always wanted to go there.” 

John groaned. “Fine, I’ll let you get away with it this time.” 

“Call Roger or Freddie. I don’t think they’re doing anything tonight. I mean, it’s a Wednesday, I hope they aren’t doing anything too crazy.” 

“Alright. Happy anniversary.” 

“Thanks. See you tomorrow for rehearsal.” 

John hung up the phone. 

“Got a ride?” the mechanic asked. 

“Not yet. It was his anniversary.” 

“Ah. Got any other friends?” 

He nodded and dialed Freddie’s number. 

“Hello?” Freddie answered, sounding slightly out of breath. Please, dear God, let him not be doing what John thought he was doing. 

“Freddie, it’s John. I got into a car accident and need a ride home.” 

“Oh, darling, are you okay. Ouch!” He let out a string of unintelligible curse words. 

“Yeah, I’m fine. Small miracles. But my car’s totaled and I don’t have money for a taxi or the tube.” 

“What about Veronica. Sit still!” 

John ignored that last bit. He was probably messing with one of his cats. “She’s visiting her parents for the week. Won’t be back until Monday.” 

“Brian? Delilah, stop biting me and get into your carrier!” 

So he was wrestling with his cat. Good to know; slightly less awkward of a situation. “Anniversary dinner. Please, Freddie, I really need some help here.” 

“I can’t. Delilah’s got a vet appointment and I can’t afford to miss it.” 

“Who schedules a vet appointment in the evening? Are vets even open this late?” 

“Listen, darling, I would love to help out, you know I would. I really can’t afford to miss it. What about Roger?” 

“Fine. I’ll call Roger. You all are terrible friends.” He hung up before Freddie to utter his reply. 

He huffed and glared at the phone as if it was the reason all of his friends were assholes. He couldn’t stay here all night. He picked up and dialed Roger’s number. 

“Hello?” At least everyone so far had picked up. 

“Roger, I got into a car accident. I’m okay. Freddie, Veronica, and Brian all have other things to do so they can’t pick me up and take me home. I don’t have money for a taxi or the tube. Please, come get me.” 

“Oh my god! You said you were okay? Are you sure? Are you in the hospital?” 

“No, I’m at the shop right now.” 

“What shop?” 

He sighed. His friends could be idiots. “The mechanic’s shop. The car’s totaled. I can’t go anywhere. Can you come to pick me up.” 

“I would love to—”

“If you say ‘but’, I will murder you.” 

“My mum’s in town and we have tickets to the opera. Once in a lifetime chance, John.” 

He banged his head against the wall. The mechanic looked at him with confusion in his eyes. 

“Please, Roger, just come get me. Get a taxi here, pick me up, drop me off at home and go to the opera.” 

“We have to be there in like ten minutes. I can’t do that.” 

“I am not walking home at this hour! I don’t even know where I am.” 

“Someone should invent a portable, electronic map that can give you directions back home,” Roger mused. 

“I don’t care about what someone should invent, I care about now. Please, please come get me. You’re my last chance.” 

“What about Crowley?” 

John froze. There was dead silence in the air. 

“Hello? You still there?” 

“Are you honestly suggesting, I get in a vehicle with someone who once said parking brakes were optional?” 

“Look, you need a ride home. None of us can help. Why not try Crowley? It’s just one time.” 

“He always parks in no-park zones, even if there’s a park zone that is more convenient!” 

“I’m sorry. That’s all I got.” 

“Get me a taxi, have it drive here and pick me up. I’ll pay you back.” 

“How am I supposed to pay for the taxi, though? It’s not like I can wire cash over the phone.” 

He began banging his head on the wall once more. 

“I have to go. Give Crowley a call, I’m sure he’d love to help out.” 

“I hate you!” He slammed the phone down on the receiver. 

“Still no luck?” The mechanic asked. 

“My friends are self-absorbed assholes and I am going to murder them all slowly.” 

Roger was right, though. He didn’t have any other choice. He picked up the phone and dialed Crowley’s number. Thankfully, it didn’t go to voice mail. 

“Hello?” 

“Crowley, it’s John. I was in an accident. I’m fine. Roger, Brian, Freddie, and Veronica can’t pick me up. I don’t have money for a taxi or the tube. Can you come and pick me up?” 

“Sure thing. I’m actually about to head out to get Aziraphale. Do you mind if I swing by and get him first? He’s closer to me.” 

John breathed a sigh of relief. Maybe if Aziraphale was in the car, he’d drive slower. “Yeah. That’s fine. See you in a bit?” 

“Yep. Bye.” Crowley hung up the phone. 

“Finally got someone to come pick you up?” the mechanic asked. 

“Yeah, finally.” 

“Did you tell him where you were at?” 

The color drained from John’s face. He didn’t remember telling Crowley where he was. Then again, Crowley didn’t ask so he must know. But if John didn’t tell him, then how could he know? 

“I’m pretty sure I did,” John said because there was no other plausible explanation (there rarely was with Crowley involved). 

\--------------------------------  
“You can’t do ninety miles an hour down Oxford street!” Aziraphale screeched as the car swerved through traffic. 

If John thought Aziraphale’s presence would calm Crowley down, he was sadly mistaken. If anything, Crowley was more reckless. It was as if he were trying to show off to Aziraphale. He wished he would show off less. 

“Watch that pedestrian!” 

The car lurched to the right, sending John sliding across the back seat. It was a 1926 Bentley, so there were no seatbelts in the car. Were there even any airbags? When did car safety features become standard? 

“She’s on the road, she knows the risks she’s taking.” Crowley didn’t even sound bothered. He started blaring on the horn, continuing to swerve in and out of traffic. 

“The drunk driver didn’t kill me,” John said, sliding back to the other end of the seat, “but my good friend definitely will.” He wanted to start praying but had the distinct feeling that in this car, with this driver, his prayers would be ignored. 

“Bloody lorries,” he muttered. Crowley stuck his head out the window. “Move you useless sack of wheels. If you can’t drive, get off the road!” He took a corner much too fast and John swore the back wheel left the ground. 

“I think you’re the one who can’t drive,” he said. 

“Oh, I can drive. I’ve been driving longer than you’ve been alive. Move your arse! I know geriatrics who drive better than you!” 

Then Crowley twisted around in his seat, eyes fully off the road. “Are you sure you’re okay? Driver didn’t hurt you or anything?” 

They swerved into the opposite side of the road. 

“Yes now watch the road!” He pointed at the cars that were swerving to miss them. Miraculously, Crowley managed to dodge each and every one of them with ease. It was like he was breaking the laws of physics. 

“Really, dear, you must exercise proper vehicle safety,” Aziraphale said. 

Crowley slammed on the gas, throwing both Aziraphale and John back in their seats. 

“I am practicing proper vehicle safety.”

“Your lights aren’t on and it’s dark.” 

“The city’s bright enough.” 

John let out a pathetic whimper and listened as Aziraphale and Crowley continued to bicker about his driving habits. He should have just walked home. 

\------------------  
John stormed into rehearsal the next day, ready for blood. 

“Oh, hey, John, did you get home alright?” Roger asked. 

“Don’t ‘hey, John’ me.” He whirled to Brian. “I hope you got food poisoning at the Ritz!” 

He turned to Freddie. “I hope Delilah pees on your pillow every night.” 

He turned to Roger. “And I hope that the opera was so bad, your mother disowns you.” He stomped out of the room, anger still simmering in the air. 

The men all looked at each other. 

“Guess that ride home with Crowley really was traumatizing,” Brian said, turning back to his guitar to continue tuning it. 

“We all had plans already. He shouldn’t have left home without his wallet,” Freddie said. 

Everyone hummed in agreement. But hey, at least John didn’t have to walk home.

**Author's Note:**

> Ah, it feels good to get back to this series. I don't think I've every written one that was John-centric before. He's probably the quietest member of Queen, which isn't saying much given the personalities he's got to work with. Still, Crowley and Aziraphale barely appeared in this one, but we all know riding along with Crowley when you're a human is suicide. Do not attempt. 
> 
> I also like to think that Crowley may have not so subtly blessed his friends to keep them out of harms way, or at least out of some harms way. He's a bit of a softie like that.


End file.
